


half a heart but is it enough?

by lazy_kitkat



Series: have we the audacity to chase tomorrow? [6]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Minecraft Youtubers (Video Blogging RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Cardiophilia, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Panic Attacks, Pining, Polyamory, Prejudice, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, dteamweek2020, realistic minecraft au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_kitkat/pseuds/lazy_kitkat
Summary: Day 7: Free DayThe Pillager’s Guide of Conquest and Conquer refers to the urban myths of the Mesa for information of the Ender dragon and her End City.It is considered a fact that every century, the dragon egg hatches and it’s awakening creates a stronghold somewhere in the Overworld. Inside the stronghold, is a portal which leads adventurers to the End, their only way back to our dimension is the death of the dragon. The death of the dragon is also rumoured to open the lost gates of the End city, a child’s fairy tale filled with flying ships, endless treasure and all the answers to the world.Many have chased after this myth but none have returned.(Where Dream is after the End City with death right on his tail and he meets Sapnap and George along the way.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: have we the audacity to chase tomorrow? [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864369
Comments: 77
Kudos: 803
Collections: Dream Team Week 2020





	half a heart but is it enough?

**Author's Note:**

> Quick reminder, if Dream Team or anyone in my fics express that fanfiction makes them uncomfortable and they’d rather it not be published, I will take this down.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy~

Dream and death have been dancing around each other for too long, playing an endless game of tag and stuck in a stalemate for longer than he remembers. Death twirls and whispers sweet nothings in his ears, striking a B natural when it should be a G, trying to trick him into falling over his feet. Dream never stays in the same place for long, for the other is right on his tail and if he were to stop, it would be his corpse the broken choir of songbirds would have to serenade.

So he keeps running and running, even when his feet burn, through the thickest of forests and vastest of oceans. Even when it rips him apart and he’s stuck under the mercy of greedy scavengers, he keeps running because he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to push back. He can’t, just can’t because under the mask and ugly skin, he’s a coward.

And that’s all he’s ever been.

Death and Dream have been dancing around each other for too long and as he lays in familiar darkness, heart thumping and grip slipping, he thinks it might be time to give in.

~

_The Pillager’s Guide of Conquest and Conquer refers to the urban myths of the Mesa for information of the Ender dragon and her End City._

_It is considered a fact that every century, the dragon egg hatches and it’s awakening creates a stronghold somewhere in the Overworld. Inside the stronghold, is a portal which leads adventurers to the End, their only way back to our dimension is the death of the dragon. The death of the dragon is also rumoured to open the lost gates of the End city, a child’s fairy tale filled with flying ships, endless treasure and all the answers to the world._

_Many have chased after this myth but none have returned._

~

He remembered the village inn hiring him to catch the arsonist destroying their fields in exchange for a warm bed and hot breakfast. He didn’t usually stay at inns, townsfolk have always been a nosy bunch, quiet whispers following him wherever he went. But that night he had been ambushed by a mob of skeletons and nothing sounded better than the free hospitality.

The owner of the inn warned him of fires, unnatural in every sense of the word, and the wails which the children swore were angry echoes of the dead. 

Dream wasn’t scared at the time; he had faced worse and knew not to trust the words of those who lived in fear. He trudged through the field, ears listening for the crackle of flames, nose tracking dark smoke. 

“That’s a weird mask.”

Dream jumped, pivoting around to see a man with dark skin and darker hair. The stranger had familiar markings of orange and red swirls from his neck and all the way to his wrist which glowed in the dark. His hands were covered in bandages and held onto the strap of his satchel; a beauty of a gun equipped where a quiver would be.

“You’re a Netherin,” He said, eyes widening in realisation, his hands quickly reaching to the hilt of his axe.

Netherins, survivors of Hell, cursed children of the Underworld. 

_Blessed with embers, doomed to ashes_ , Dream recited as he watched smoke waft from the stranger’s bandages.

“Woah dude, calm down.” the Netherin said, hands raised in the air, “I come in peace or whatever.”

“The people in the village beg to differ.”

“The people in the village can go suck a dick.”

“You destroyed half their crops!”

“Not on purpose!” He shouted indignantly, looking away as his hand reached to the gun on his back, “I-I had to take care of something.”

He looked closer at the weapon; its design seemed familiar. The gun was clearly made of two ores, gold and quartz which were both the fruits of Nether mines. He wondered what they used for ammo and gun powder, creepers steered well away from their lands and iron was non-existent and-

“Are you an idiot?” Dream hissed, “You threw fireballs in a forest?”

“Field- I left some of the grass alone,” he defended, pointing at a stray patch of grass under his feet, “I even put it out.”

“With what?” 

The stranger’s cheeks were pink and he had the decency to look away. Dream remembered seeing a well on his way up but there was no bucket in sight.

“Fight fire with fire?”

“Oh guardians, he’s an idiot.”

“Oh guardians, he has a stupid mask.”

Dream stared at him, clearly unimpressed and let go of his weapon before turning away with a sigh. He wasn’t in the mood to fight, his body still aching from his ventures earlier in the day. He didn’t have the time to entertain the hell-spawn and started to walk away, eager to return to his room and leave the town.

“Hey-no don’t go,” the stranger grabbed his shoulder only to be brushed off, “I know you’re after the dragon.”

That made him stop in his tracks. 

“Dragon, what dragon-”

“You have an ender pearl in that bag; I know what that means.”

No, you don’t, he thought idly.

“You’re going to kill the Ender Dragon,” the stranger continued, “I want you to take me.”

That didn’t surprise him, the other man wasn’t the first to ask and he won’t be the last; not when promises of glory and riches whisper and tease at the greed of folk. He had refused every single one of them for he didn’t have the time to bury dead bodies. He travelled alone, fought by himself and took every step of his goal solo. He would not enthral a child with a sweet fantasy they would never see. 

Besides, the arsonist looked like more trouble than he was worth.

“No-”

“I have blaze powder, 19 vials,” the man interrupted, eyes blazing with conviction, “You need that, don’t you?”

He did. Nether fortresses were impossible to find, let alone leave unscathed. 19 vials- the man must have killed at least ten blazes for that much. He watches the other silently, relishing as the stranger fidgets under his gaze. 

“Let me come with you.”

In hindsight, he should have walked away, should have known well enough that death would stop at nothing to have Dream to itself, should have known himself well enough to realise he’d get attached too quickly to leave him.

“Please.”

He should say no, he thought.

~

_According to the Pillager’s Guide to Conquest and Conquer, a Netherin is a former human, now animal who settled in the Nether and can be identified by the markings on its upper body that resemble flames. These markings will be in shades of red and orange and have been noted to glow in dark. Due to their betrayal to their native home, the Overworld, it is common knowledge that Netherins are not to be trusted._

_It is advised when buying a Netherin off the market, too also acquire quartz chains to keep them in line and most owners have commented that methods of punishment which include water are most effective in correcting a rebellious Netherin. One master comments that their animal almost went mute after spending hours submerged in water with a water-breathing potion._

_It is also important to keep them away from any flammables for Netherins have the monstrous ability to manipulate flames and were notorious for burning down kingdoms of the Overworld before the overworlders emerged victorious in the Searing Sieges._

_Not much is known about the curse cast upon Netherins but it is, fortunately, decreasing the number of these pests which still walk in our lands._

~

The man’s name is Sapnap and Dream laughed at it.

“What kind of stupid name is that?”

“Mine,” the other snaps, a blush prettily dusting his cheeks, “What’s yours then?”

“Dream,” he manages between laughing and his mask muffling his voice.

“Dude, that sucks so much more.”

He was still laughing when he huffed out a response.

“Ok Snapmap.”

~

_If there’s anything that the earth couldn’t live without, it would be the sun._

_The warmth for when it snowed, the waking of flowering blooms, the deep blue of the sea. If there were no sun, there would be no cerulean hues to greet you when you looked up to the sky. If there were no sun, life would wither away in endless darkness._

_The sun was a promise. A promise that a splatter of pink, orange and yellow would make birds sing the next morning. A promise that there would be another day no matter how bruised the earth was. A promise that there was still a chance to change._

_If there were no sun, Dream would have given up the moment he could._

~

The man was more trouble than he was worth and Dream hated that he’s always right. The younger whined when he’s hungry, hummed to himself when he’s in a daze, bought 2 loaves of bread for an emerald when he was told to buy four and Dream was mostly annoyed at himself for not doing anything about it.

“We might have to run.”

He looked like he was going to apologise for being an idiot again, a face Dream had grown to recognise.

“Please tell me you didn’t burn something again.”

Silence greeted him like an old friend and the taller man doesn’t know what to do but to sigh.

“What was it this time? The horse stables? Library?”

“The mayor may need to invest in a new carpet. With walls that don’t burn down as easily-”

“Guardians, how far behind are they?”

Sapnap winced, “I got a five minute lead on the iron golems but-”

Dream quickly grabbed his hand, dragging him away. 

(And even when they were safe and away from the village, Dream wasn’t sure if he wanted to let go of the other’s hand just yet.)

~

_Dream doesn’t sleep at night. Not for years._

_Call him paranoid but he knows death is waiting for him with wide arms and canons of confetti. He won’t sleep, not when the empty corpses of those he left behind, those he watched burn, those who he should have saved._

_His memories haunt him and if he’s left in silence for too long, the steady clockwork he’s worked so hard to tune will plunge into madness headfirst. The promise of those in his past, their echoes, their fading heartbeats, might etch onto his skin. They’ll drag him down into limbo and he’ll drown in a sea of hands he didn’t reach out for and save._

_At night he’s a madman who hears voices where he shouldn’t, nightmares which aren’t his and dreams he wished could have._

~

Sapnap reminded him so much of fire sometimes, Dream was afraid he would burn himself.

The other smiled too much, too easily and when he wasn’t, the world felt a little bit darker, a little bit quieter. When they spent nights at an inn, the shorter man would busy himself with the children, singing songs and weaving the most ridiculous tales for them. Dream watched quietly from the counter of the bar, noticing that even passersby would stop and listen.

Moths the bunch of them, mesmerized by the flame of a candle, yearning to come closer till their wings turned to ashes.

~

One particular night, Sapnap retired to his side and leaned back against the counter. It was only the two of them left sitting under the quiet moonlight, the rest of the inn had fallen under the spell of the night.

“So apparently my smile is warmer than honey,” he started, lashes fluttering sleepily and the corners of his lips perking up.

No, Dream thought, it scorched like the sun so bad it was hard to look at him.

“Who measures how warm honey is?” he replied, not knowing what else to say. The dark-haired man laughed, lively like embers igniting and Dream feels warm just listening to it. Under the mask, he watched the other hum softly to himself, the gentle lights of the night illuminating him. 

He was still smiling. Sometimes it’s so bright, Dream can’t stand to look at him.

“Can you stop glowing?” Dream asked, without thinking. He expected a flat stare or a laugh to brush it off but Sapnap faltered in his song, instinctively pulling down his sleeves to cover the glowing insignia of a Netherin.

“I can’t help it,” he mumbled and the taller man can barely hear it.

The smile on his face was replaced with a frown and the night grew darker.

 _That’s not what I meant_ , he thought to himself helplessly as his heart already missed the light.

~

They were setting up camp for the night when curiosity finally got the better of him.

“Why did you come with me?”

He didn’t think Sapnap would lie to him and even if he did he would be able to tell. But he didn’t think the other would come out and admit the truth.

“Why do you want to kill the dragon?”

Deflection. It could be worse.

~

_He’s in a maze. Maybe._

_He’s blinded and can’t see his hands in front of him_

_He feels for the walls but they’re cold and wet and Dream thinks he smells blood._

_But the worst thing is the screams._

_Every step he takes._

_He hears his sister begging for help._

_He hears his brother choking and struggling to breathe._

_He hears his mother telling him to run._

_Guardians, he should have died that night. If Death was a tad faster, a tad less sadistic, he would be six feet under._

_Run away, he hears his mother scream every night._

_That’s all he ever does now._

_And he’s growing tired._

~

It took him nearly burning alive to find out. 

It was a bad decision followed by another, a stumble over his feet which led to a tumble down the hill, the wrong words at the wrong place and at the wrong time. The job sounded simple enough, they had to eliminate the silverfish which infested an old church. Unfortunately, it had seemed to have slipped their employer’s mind to mention the murder of phantoms which preyed near the church or the nest of venomous spiders that prowled the borders of the forest.

Dream lunges forward and swung his axe over his shoulder to decapitate the wailing phantom. Blood stained the blade and he twirled it around so he could stab the abdomen of the crawling pest with the hilt of his weapon. Venom dripped from its fangs and with his melee occupied, he instinctively grabbed for his arrows and coated them with the poison.

He aimed his bow and shot. Phantoms cried in pain, falling from the sky like angels who had been punished and writhed pathetically on the ground. He felt his quiver grow too light and checked for Sapnap who was metres on his right, shooting with his flamethrower.

“I’m out of fireballs!” the dark-haired man shouted, stepping around dead corpses to make his way to the other. Behind him was a trail of roasted spiders but they both knew there were more to come. Dream cursed to himself when he counted three arrows, eyes darting around them to find a way out. 

What happened next was his own fault. He wasn’t watching his back and was too slow to react when Sapnap jumped towards him to pull him away. As he fell to the ground, his eyes widened at the sight of fifteen phantoms, now with their target set on the other man. Sapnap raised his hands and Dream saw his lips move without sound and-

The world erupted into flames.

Sapnap was on fire as he screamed and it pierced through the night. He begged and pleaded for it to stop but his flames eat away at his hands, licking away hungrily. He writhed and twisted in searing agony as if the fire wanted to devour through his flesh till all that was left were ashes. The man’s tears stained his face but evaporated before they could fall, the rain too frail to put out roaring flames of a bush. The monsters withered away like paper, never standing a chance but Dream didn’t care.

_Blessed with embers, doomed to ashes._

Fire was a gift to the Netherins, a weapon stronger than a thousand men, but it would eat away at its host body until there was nothing left.

This is what a dying star looks like, Dream realised with horror and he crawled forward with the one hand which was still working. He couldn’t lose the other, no- not when he failed so many others, not when this man was just a little bit out of reach, so close but so far.

No.

“Stay away- no!” Sapnap scrambled backwards when he noticed Dream coming closer, “You-you’ll get hurt-”

He could feel the heat of the flames hiss at him like a predator defending its claim but he kept going.

Just a bit closer.

“Let me burn! Let me burn-”

The other sobbed and buried his head in his arms, curling in a small ball, trying to protect himself. Smoke filled his lungs and he coughed in embers.

Just a bit closer.

“No! Not again please-”

Just a bit closer.

“It hurts-”

Dream wrapped his arms around the other as tightly as he could.

_I’m here._

_Stay._

For the earth needs its sun to live. 

For the earth will stop at nothing to save its sun.

_I’m not going to watch you burn away._

~

He’s bandaging the other man’s hands, burnt crisped black and Dream thinks he’s still beautiful. It was only the pain he wished he could take away.

“The end city. It’s said to have all the answers in the world.” 

Dream looked up in surprise but the shorter man looked away.

“That’s what they say.”

Sapnap clenched his fist, tears in his eyes and hissed at the pain.

“It has to be. There has to be a cure- a way not to be this- pathetic all the time.”

_You’re not pathetic._

He wanted to say but he didn’t.

Because Dream was a coward and that was something that would never change.

~

They need to restock with Dream having lost half his weapons to the fire, Sapnap not wanting to touch his flamethrower. So, they go on their way to visit an old friend of his.

They had spent the night on the outskirts of a forest and the taller man caught the other staring in the corner of his eye.

“What are you looking at?”

“A freakishly tall beanstalk.”

He laughed.

“Can’t hear you from up here.”

“You’re lucky that you’re pretty.”

“You haven’t even seen my face-”

“Shush,” Sapnap put a pinkie on the mouth of his mask and Dream was sure his cheeks were warm from the campfire.

~

_Dream doesn’t think he’s alive anymore._

_He’s not dead either. His heart beats but he doesn’t breathe._ _Half of him belongs to death, a magnet chasing after the other half of him because they belong together but he rebels._

~

“I thought you said he was a friend.”

The shorter man leapt off the ledge of the building and quietly landed behind the other whose eyes were trained on the foreboding iron bars. Dream signalled him to come closer and let the shadows engulf him like bandages to its corpse so that they would seem invisible to the ordinary eye. They peered through the gaps between the bars, torches from the inside shining out and illuminating the sleepy haze of the dark.

“I borrowed my old iron axe from him a few months back. He’s good at what he does-”

“Borrowed?” Sapnap stared at him incredulously, “We have very different meanings to that word.”

He faltered.

“Jerry understood.”

“Who’s Jerry?” Sapnap asked.

He didn’t know. 

“Ask Cassandra,” He replied.

He didn’t know who she was either.

But the other man laughed quietly, his voice like bells and whistles in the wind and nothing else really seemed to matter.

~

They waited for the lights to flicker to fall asleep. 

Dream let his hand run down the familiar wood, playing around with the knob.

“He changed it,” he murmured to himself. Going through the front door wasn’t an option, he was terrible with picking locks and they could very much waste away the night trying. His eyes darted around looking for another way in and he eyed the open window on the upper right and the bough of the tree which conveniently hung low enough for them to tumble in.

“Follow me,” he ordered, not waiting for a response and started to climb his way up the tree. He reached the end of the branch, swiftly launching himself high enough and rolled soundlessly into the building. He waited patiently for Sapnap and once they both were in, he walked ahead. The shorter man looked around curiously at the skilfully crafted weapons, clean blades that had yet to see bloodshed and shone in the crackling light of molten lava.

“What are those for?” he whispered, pointing to the array of gold medals. 

“I’m pretty sure Jerry used to be a knife thrower.” Dream answered, half distracted with the spectral arrows which were neatly tidied away under the workbench.

“What’s behind here?” Sapnap’s ear rested against the door, his brows furrowed in concentration, “I think I hear-quacking?”

“Cassandra has an obsession.”

“I- how do you know so much about the people you steal from but not know their name?”

“I do not steal from Jerry. He’s like, my dude? I’ve always borrowed his stuff,” Dream waved off his concern, “No one else crafts weapons as he does.”

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes and then frowned when Dream nearly cut himself while twirling around a sword. He didn’t say anything but the masked man could sense a scolding if he didn’t stop so he slipped the iron sword into his sheathe. He watched the other man gush between different blades, engravings in the hilt and the marksmanship of steel. 

It was only the two of them in the dark workshop which was lit by the bubbling cauldrons of molten lava. Every time the lava crackled and popped, Sapnap would twitch as if he’d rather live in endless darkness. He had been antsy around fire ever since he had lost control at the church like when his hands shook with flint and steel as he had tried to start a campfire or jump back when someone lit a torch.

“Sapnap,” He murmured under his breath but loud enough for the said man to hear even with his back turned. Without thinking, Dream rested his forehead on the shorter man’s shoulder and felt the other stiffen.

“I’m listening,” He whispered.

He felt Sapnap’s heart heave and his shoulders relax but he didn’t turn around. He laced his fingers with the other’s bandaged ones, rubbing soft circles in the palm of the other’s hand.

Dream was entering new territory, he-they had never been this close to each other. He let himself forget everything around him, closing his eyes with his head rested in the other’s back. The unspoken words that neither of them were ready to say hung in the air and he could feel his own emotions cling to him, constricting his chest so tightly he might have suffocated. Guardians, when he was around Sapnap, he felt tangled and the more he struggled, the more trapped he became in threads of passionate reds. If he didn’t step away now, he was sure he would drown himself in the other’s flames, wither into ashes before he could blink. But he thought to himself, it would probably hurt more to stay so far away from the sun.

“Dream-”

_Thump!_

The mans jumped apart, looking up to the ceiling where heavy footsteps could be heard.

“I KNOW YOU’RE THERE, YOU MUFFINS!”

“Jerry.” he realised, grabbing Sapnap’s arm, and they ran away, “We need to go now.”

~

_Make way for the king._

_Let the one man marching band welcome him, serenade him in all glory. Let the orchestra of a single flute spread the word to the birds with no song._

_The king of cowards has one melody, has one harmony._

_Badum._

_Badum._

_Badum._

~

Dream flopped a bag of emeralds on the counter, exhaustion pulling down at his limbs and he felt the other man lean on him for support. Never again were they going to loot an abandoned mineshaft at night. He was certain the throbbing in his head, caused by the mob of zombies that ambushed them when they left the caves, would torture him during the next few days.

“Two beds.”

The lady at the counter wasn’t looking at him but rather the glowing markings on Sapnap’s hands, utter spite venomously swirling in her gaze. 

“Sir, I’ll have to ask you to chain your Netherin or leave it outside. We have spare chains if it’s necessary.”

The masked man wished he could feel surprised, however, the aftermath of the 14-year war left many overworlders feeling justified in their prejudice against Netherins, much to Dream's disdain. Under the counter, he grabbed the other’s hand and squeezed gently when the shorter man began to fidget under the heavy weight of discriminating stares. He could play along, chain the already scarred hands until they hid away to the refuge of their own room but he didn’t think he had it in him to do so. Another option was to leave for another inn but hate spread around like wildfire, a virus swiftly corrupting people’s hearts and blurring their vision. 

“2 beds.” He pushed forward the bag. 

He kept his eyes trained forward, watching the girl’s pretty face morphing into something disgusting. Murmurs around them sparked and Dream wondered if it might have been a better choice to stay silent. In the corner of his eye, he noticed a band of pillagers, hands impatiently twitching to their crossbows and Sapnap shrinking smaller beside him in response.

“Sir, I’ll have to warn you to-”

“Cut the act deadass,” snapped a voice from behind him, “Just do your job and move on.”

Dream nearly laughed but instead stifled it in favour of turning around to face the newly crowned darling of the tavern, a man with a hood and goggles that looked a bit ridiculous on him. He was short, a few pixels shorter than Sapnap, and Dream nearly felt bad for towering over him but that quickly dissipated as the stranger glared at everyone with a fiery passion. 

“Sir, it’s this man’s fault for bringing in that vile creature without any restraints.” the lady defended, “This inn has standards for who they’ll house.”

Sapnap coughed. The stranger rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to bite back only for an arrow whizzed past him. He flinched and his hood fell back, revealing dark brown curls and cat ears where there should have been human ears.

Oh.

“There’s that Familiar who robbed us!” One of the pillagers bellowed, charging towards the Familiar with his crossbow loaded. The lady started shrieking curses as the stranger pounced on her counter to dodge another incoming arrow, calling him vermin. He knocked over bottles of wine, with the bumbling pillagers who chased after his tail, slipping and falling onto the tables of gaping bystanders. It was like watching dominoes fall, one stumble after another as someone else would join into the disarray, either throwing chairs at the Familiar or cursing at the pillagers.

“I WAS EATING THAT!”

“GO SUCK ON A LEMON YOU PUNY DWARF!”

“We should help him out,” Sapnap whispered into his ear and Dream hummed in agreement. He ignored his aching back and lunged behind an unsuspecting pillager and his with the hilt of his sword, watching him fall unconsciously. 

They danced around the chaos of the bar, carelessly treading on shattered glass and swiftly avoiding punches thrown at them. 

“You grotty wanking oink artless base-court apple-john,” Sapnap sang, tripping over the man who was trying to sneak up behind the Familiar and winked at him. The stranger looked at him, greeted by heart-stealing dimples and scoffed.

“Please stop smiling, it’s hurting me.”

Dream laughed, “That’s what I keep telling him.”

“Y'all jealous that my smile makes all the boys swoon.”

“Jealous of the boys or jealous of you?” He played along.

“Are you two actually flirting during a bar fight?”

“It’s romantic.” Dream said, bending down so he was close to the stranger’s face which turned a delightful red, “Have a name, shortcake?”

The Familiar flinched back so he leaned away.

“Get that ugly mask out of my face.” he heard the other say as he dodged an incoming china plate and Sapnap laughed.

~

_If there was no moon, Dream would be blinded at night._

_There are stars of course, but it’s common knowledge not to trust them. The stars are jealous and always have been for they aren’t the brightest lantern of the earth’s sky, not like the sun. They twinkle and tell you lies to drag you far into the void, far away from the sun’s haven. They’re like willow-wisps leading you into the forbidden depths of the forest._

_But the moon is quiet and doesn't care for such things. It simply shines serenely down onto the earth when the sun can not, being the torch against the darkness. Sometimes the stars whisper to the clouds to hide away the moon but even when you can’t see it at night, there was a kind reassurance that came with knowing it was still there._

_If it weren’t for the moon, Dream would have been scared of the night._

~

Amidst having stale oatmeal thrown at them and a shelf of vintage wine collapse, the Familiar told them his name was George.

~

“What did you take from them?” Sapnap asked, hours after they had run away from the bar and set camp together. He sat next to Dream, carefully watching the taller man feed the flames. The Familiar sat afar from them, never taking off his goggles and shuffling around the items in his inventory. He fell silent as if contemplating whether or not to trust them.

“Rumour has it that the pillagers are after the dragon.” he replied after a short silence, pulling out three ender pearls, “I snagged a netherite dagger from their captain too.”

“So you’re a thief.”

“Treasure hunter,” he corrected.

“You’re after the End City too, aren’t you?” Dream spoke up and George shrugged but his ears perked at the mention of the place. The Familiar caught him staring for too long, bringing up his hood to cover his ears and Dream swore the other’s face was red.

He’s cute, Dream thought and as he watched Sapnap grate at the other with a carefree laugh, he thinks he’s doomed.

~

_The Pillager’s Guide of Conquest and Conquer are vague about the origins of a Familiar. The first sightings of the human-cat hybrid were in a swamp where it was rumoured to have been a civil war between the magic users such as witches and vindicators. Cat’s being the trademark for witches, it is believed that Familiars are cats turned human, resulting in being categorized as animals._

_Due to their unnatural genetics and pest-like rise in population, the Coven of Clerics has decided it would be best to control and harvest Familiars, the healthiest creatures being sent to serve under their aristocratic masters and the sickly ones being experimented on._

_It is noted that Familiars retain many of their feline attributes, their night vision and agility making them a common plaything for hunt dogs and distaste for water being an effective way to discipline them. A rebelling Familiar is marked by bruises on the wrist, escaping chains which they rightfully should have kept on. All rebelling Familiars have surrendered their right to have the protection of the Felicus Act which occurred 2 years before this book’s publication._

~

He didn’t know exactly when George had forced his way into their life but when he dragged them into looting a desert temple, he realised he didn’t mind. 

“We don’t even know if there’s any treasure worth taking,” complained Sapnap and Dream nodded in agreement. 

“Don’t underestimate my ability to find this stuff. I just know, okay?”

“Just like how you knew that iron golems couldn’t jump over fences?” the masked man teased.

“That was one time!” His face flushed a light pink and Dream was glad the mask hid him staring. Sapnap brushed his shoulder against the Familiar, only for the other to step away almost immediately. 

“We had to break out of jail.” Sapnap reminded him, grinning, “At least I can cross that off my bucket list.”

“Seriously, just shut up.”

~

_“Mommy says you’re a special boy.” His sister said, swinging her legs mindlessly, “She says you’re going to do the impossible.”_

_“Maybe,” Clay grinned at her and this was a time before that night. Before it all fell like a house of cards._

_“They said that the people in the End City knew how to fly.”_

_“Like birds.”_

_“Promise you’ll take me with you. Promise you’ll show me how.”_

_“Eat your carrots first,” he laughed._

_(It’s this final wish which keeps him alive.)_

_~_

They cautiously explored the archaic corridors of the temple, elegant spiderwebs tearing at the slightest tremble and small bugs crawling out of chips in the wall. It was dark, their only source of light being the torch in Dream’s hand and Sapnap’s glowing insignias since they were too deep in the labyrinth for the natural light from the entrance to aid them. The Netherin had bought ink at the nearest village, carefully marking every turn so they could find their way back. The walls were engraved with epic murals which told stories of great heroes and the demise of their enemies in stained glass and terracotta.

“That one kinda looks like a husk getting freaky with a skeleton while riding a spider,” Sapnap mused, staring at one of the paintings.

“I sometimes wonder about what goes on in your head,” George scowled.

“You,” the other man laughed, winking at him and then the masked man. Dream sighed, knowing what was about to come.

“I hope you’re aware that you inspire my inner serial killer.”

“Oh Georgie, we both know your cute, little ass doesn’t scare anyone.”

“My middle finger salutes you.”

Sapnap would have continued but the shorter man crouched down suddenly, tugging at what seemed like a tripwire in his hand. Dream could hear a redstone contraption rumble and swiftly dragged Sapnap down as a dispenser shot an arrow relatively towards them.

“Trap,” George mumbled, “I think we’re getting closer.”

“Some warning would have been nice.”

The Familiar rolled his eyes, beckoning them to continue, “Don’t be dramatic.”

“I don’t think you’d be saying that if I was lying on the floor, bleeding to death.”

“I wouldn’t let you die so painlessly.”

“And you are-I think this is the part he tells us to shut up,” Sapnap faltered at the sight of Dream’s irritated demeanour. He smiled at them, not that they could see under the mask and made a pleased sound when they fell silent.

“Hello, this is the part where I tell you to shut up.”

~

“I think this is it.” 

Dream offered him light but the Familiar dismissed him with a wave of his tail. 

“Don’t need it, night vision.”

He and Sapnap examined the intricate floor made of terracotta, knocking against it only to hear an echo answer them. A hollow room, he thought to himself. George looked around the outskirts, on the lookout for levers and buttons.

“Guys I found a pressure plate.”

They ignored George and that was their first mistake.

_Curiosity killed the cat..._

“Guys, I wanna press it.”

“Stop nerding over the floor or I’ll activate it.” 

“You asked for it.”

Dream shot up immediately at the sound of a redstone whirring, slow at first due to rust and he shouted.

“Run-”

The floor beneath them gave away.

_...but satisfaction brought it back._

~

The fall isn’t deep but Dream knew he’d be feeling the bruise on his leg for the rest of the week.

“What is wrong with you?” he hissed but a burst of bubbling laughter escaped his lips. Adrenaline, he cursed to himself.

“It’s usually me being reckless.” Sapnap smiled and then cooed, “Lil’ Georgie just wanted our attention.”

The Familiar flushed red, his tail waving around frantically and he raised his hands to cover his ears.

“That’s what you get for falling into my trap.” He mumbled under his breath but not quiet enough to avoid sending Dream in a fit of wheezes.

Sapnap stared at Dream, almost scared and whispered to George, “You don’t think he bumped his head that bad?”

“I might have broken him,” George said in horror as Dream rolled around on the floor, crying and clutching his stomach tightly, “I can’t tell if he’s in pain or laughing.”

~

Dream lunged forward, positioning his blade with precision and swept the floor with 4 zombies. George leapt above him, one hand a simple iron dagger and the other netherite, swiftly decapitating an approaching mob while Sapnap aimed an arrow from a ledge.

“So many zombies, you’d think they’d just eat each other's brains,” he heard Sapnap murmur.

“At least the two of you are safe,” the masked man quipped, a grin growing under his mask as he gunned for the next room and left the other two yelling after him. There’s only one last room and Dream could see chests. He felt relief take over and his shoulders sagged in exhaustion.

Dream stood to the side of the grand entrance, tipping his head forward and gestured the other two in, “After you.”

“No, after you,” Sapnap returned with more dramatic flair, his dimples making Dream slightly weak.

“No, after me,” George pushed them both away and charged in, tail waving around excitedly at the prospect of treasure and the taller man ignored his heart fluttering.

~

_A king wears a crown of gold for the people to recognise him when he strolls down his roads of diamond and emerald. A silk robe and a palace of prismarine which the heavens blessed with the loveliest of weather._

_Death gifted Dream a crown but not one of glory. It was one that filled the masked man with drowning guilt and venomous shame. He held his head low instead of high and let others walk over him when it should have been the other way around._

_Dream was a king of cowards and no matter how far he threw away the crown, how hard he shattered it or how long he let it burn, it returned the next morning as good as new._

~

“Dream, please stop staring at the wandering traveller like it killed your family.”

The said man pouted, eyes never leaving the blue-robed stranger who whipped his llamas to trot faster and scowled. The three of them were seated in the back of the traveller’s wagon, jostling due to the bumpy path and Dream would rather walk a hundred chunks until their next destination. Sapnap had paid the stranger with a bag of emerald to take them across the savannah, their inventories too heavy to carry and all the mans exhausted from the desert temple. George was seated the furthest from them but the other two took no offence, they both knew the Familiar was still getting used to them.

“Fourteen emeralds.” Dream complained mournfully, “I could have bought both his shoddy llamas for three.”

“Shush, at least the view is nice.” Sapnap quipped, leaning on his shoulder, “Right Georgie?”

If he weren’t so caught up in his irritation, he would have agreed. It was dusk, the sun sinking slowly into the horizon and leaving behind a swirl of orange and pink hues that faded into a lovelier purple. 

“Because puke is such a nice colour,” mumbled the Familiar, mindlessly kicking his legs over the wagon. 

“I don’t know what you’re looking at,” Sapnap laughed, “Eyes up there, kitty.”

“And?”

“Orange is a great colour.” he wrinkled his nose, “Unless you Familiars vomit orange.”

“I wouldn’t know, can’t see orange.”

Dream would have passed it off as a joke but there was a resigned sincerity in the other’s voice which was hard to ignore. George’s back was to them so they couldn’t read his face but the masked man noticed the Familiar was playing with his own tail, something he only did when he didn’t want to talk. He shared a glance with Sapnap who had also fallen silent who had also noticed the shift in mood.

“What do you see when you look at me?” Dream offered, hands twirling at a stray end of his green tunic. 

“Yellow.”

Sapnap made a strangled noise.

“Oh withers, I can’t believe you have to look at this man in yellow all the time.” the Netherin started, “It’s bad enough in neon green.”

George laughed quietly, “If I look at him for too long, I go crazy.”

It’s a joke, intended as a terrible insult, he told himself but Dream couldn't stop the fluttering in his stomach.

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s camouflage?”

~

Pillagers were so incredibly terrible with their crossbows, it was laughable.

Dream danced, jumping backwards when an arrow whizzed past him, clearly missing its target. The arrow spun, ripping through the air and lodged itself into one of the many trees and bowed down to the sun. Evergreen grouped in small blooms on the mossy floor and vines decorated dark branches like mistletoe. A crew of seven pillagers tried to blend into the green scenery that clashed their cooler towns, all with their crossbows aimed directly at the trio.

“What is wrong with you? Load your bow Dream!” George shouted at him, screaming when one of the hostiles shot at him.

“I’m busy collecting the arrows!” He yelled back as he pulled one out of a tree, placing it in his quiver, “These guys are just giving them all to us for free.”

That wasn’t really the reason why he didn’t help with the fray. He didn’t trust himself enough not to let erupt into a rage when facing a Pillager, someone who wore Hate proudly like a coat of arms and charged into battle with nothing but their own supremacist ideals in mind. Enslaving races like the Familiars, raiding villages with ravagers or invading neutral lands in the Nether, the Pillagers managed to come out of every wrong deed with no consequence and were painted themselves in history as heroes.

“Withers, you are so fricking cheap, it’s not even funny anymore,” Sapnap was by him, holding up a shield against an incoming axe. 

It took longer than it should have for the other two to deal with the pillager and to be honest, the masked man had borrowed some of their weapons midst fight so he could retrieve stray arrows. He jumped down from a branch, landing on the roots of a deciduous tree and dusted off the dirt in his hands.

“Team effort boys,” Dream sang, crouching down in front of a pillager who Sapnap had tied up, “We’re all winners here.”

He heard George scoff and his attention returned to their captive, staring at the other two with particular disgust. He tilted his head, staring at the other through the mask, and hoped the pillager was inching back as far as he could at the sight of the dagger twirling in his hands. There was an itching in him, a shot he wanted to aim but he couldn’t find the bow, a bubbling that wouldn’t simmer down.

“Dream, calm down dude.” He felt a warm hand on his soldier and realised the blade in his hand coming ridiculously close to their captive’s throat, “You’re scaring George.”

He relaxed under Sapnap’s touch and reminded himself of the objective for their ambush. They had spent nights planning this and it would all go to waste if Dream killed their soon-to-be informant, especially when they had something he needed. In the corner of his eye, he checked for the Familiar who seemed to be watching with apprehension as if he were tip-toeing on thin ice.

“Hey buddy,” he smiled under the mask, “You mind sharing the whereabouts of that fortress.”

“Stronghold.” One of his companions behind him coughed.

“Shut up.”

~

Flint and steel, four chickens, slime blocks and a rather angry bee

“George, why is Dream bleeding?”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“I didn’t know idiocy led people to start spontaneous bleeding from the nose.”

“I think it’s a new phenomenon.”

~

“There’s something that bothers me,” George started one night with Sapnap snoozing next to him. The other man hummed in response, wiping his sword.

“I have a better hearing than most,” he continued, playing with the furs at the tips of his tail, “And I- do you know that only half your heart beats?”

Dream remained silent and the Familiar didn’t seem to realise.

“It’s like- how do I explain it? Sapnap’s heart goes bum-badum. Everyone’s heartbeat is like that,” he tapped his fingers on his knee.

“George,” He warned but it’s quieter than the winds and the other man talked over him.

“But yours is more badum, badum like the other half is missing-” He stopped, eyes widening and words falling short, “Dream, your hand! What are you doing?”

He looked down and swore, he hadn’t realised he had gripped so tightly on the blade and now his hand was a bloody mess. George rushed to look for first-aid, running to his side with bandages and fret.

“You idiot,” he panicked and Dream silently contemplated how soft George’s skin was against his own calloused hands and wondered how he could tell the butterflies in his stomach to shut up. 

He watched the other methodically wrap his hand carefully but while ranting about the taller man’s carelessness.

“How are you still alive?”

Dream wondered if that was directed to his heart or tendency to hurt himself but was able to muster a cheerful voice. 

“I’m one of a kind.”

George stared at him, his need to know more being painstakingly clear but he shook his head and mumbled a quiet ‘whatever’. Once his wound was taken care of, the Familiar took the Dream’s other hand and rested it on his own chest. 

“What this for?” He asked as his fingers listened to the soft thump of a heart, warm and slow like a symphony which his ears sinned to hear.

“Can you feel it?” the other murmured, cheeks pink.

_Bum ba-dum._

_Bum ba-dum._

A heartbeat, the song of the living, forbidden hymn of the dead, a stark contrast to Dream’s own broken melody had been playing on loop for so long, it had driven him insane. He could feel it and even if it wasn’t his own, at least it was a sign. At least there was something to pull him down when he flew too high, something to pull him back when he ventured lost into the woods.

“Wait, no- don’t cry, you bastard. I’m not Sapnap. You think I can handle this?”

He rested his head into the other’s shoulder, choking on his tears while trying to serendipity in George’s heart beating. The other flinched and for a moment Dream thought he ruined this but he felt the other’s hands hesitantly wrap around him.

George was _here_ , song lulling him to sleep.

It was under the tranquil reign of the sovereign moon, one of those nights where the clouds hid away the light but there was no fear of the darkness for, he knows the moon will always be _here_.

(That’s not the last night George lets him listen.)

~

_He wasn’t lying when Dream said that Death claimed half of him._

_His heart, a painful reminder that the other was waiting for the rest of him. A reminder that he was the lone survivor from the night of bloody murder and he would walk the rest of his life on thin ice. Some might call it extraordinary that he was able to slip away from Death’s grasp time and time again but he knew the other was simply biding their time. He was a pawn in the grand game of Russian roulette, narrowly missing a gunshot at the hand’s of the other with each round._

_Luck was a fool’s shield and he was dreading the day his own ran out._

_Badum._

_Badum._

_Badum._

~

Dream loved the rain. 

The skies cried, pale blues twisting and churning into heartbroken shades of grey and black. He would wonder, what had upset something as unreachable as the heavens, what had broken a heart as vast as the sky? The skies, enraged by the stars would punish the earth- flooding them with their tears and ripping it apart with howls of pain. But once the sun raised its hand for silence, deciding to shine a little stronger, the darkness would clear away and reveal the raw beauty of bounty. Everything flourished after the pain, stitching itself stronger, growing lusher. The anguish of the sky blessed the earth and in a poetic way, Dream thought that was beautiful. 

“There is no way you’re getting me to leave this cave.” George growled next to him, staring at the pattering drops with a grudge a ran deeper than mere spite, “If you think I’m going to willingly step out-”

“George if you want me to carry you, you just have to ask,” the masked man answered.

“Dude, unless you can carry the two of us, I’m staying right here with George,” Sapnap stared out the entry of the cave cautiously, “Netherins and water don’t mix, remember?”

Dream groaned, just his luck both of his companions were so averse to water. He didn’t blame them of course; huge amounts of water could be fatal to Sapnap and Familiars themselves hated getting wet on instinct. But night was falling and Dream wasn’t sure if they had the resources to camp out the night. 

“Okay,” He gave in, “Sap, you try to start a fire. George, you’re with me.”

As he walked out the cave, dragging the Familiar with him by his tail, he heard George fumble a protest and rolled his eyes. He slipped off his green hood, throwing it onto the other and relished in the soft trickles. 

“What’s this for?” George mumbled, face red when he looked at the hood in his hand.

“To cover you. We’re going hunting so try to stay under the trees.”

“S-so I wear it?”

“What type of question is that? What else are you going to do with it-throw it to the wolves?”

George's face flushed a deeper shade of red, quickly slipping on the hood which was too big for him. The sleeves went past his fingers and it hung loosely on his frame, hood covering his forehead.

It was a bit cute, he thought distractedly as they left for the woods.

~

When sunset had rolled by, the masked man wondered if he’d ever get his jacket back. He was skinning a rabbit, readying the pink flesh for open flames while the other two were sitting together in the back of the cave. His hood has been big enough for the two to share if they squished together, George, cheeks dusted pink, diverting his eyes from Dream and Sapnap whispering things in the Familiar’s ears with a teasing grin.

“I’m bored.” George claimed abruptly, tail waving around mindlessly, “Entertain me.”

“You guys could help,” Dream grumbled, skewering the fruits of their hunt over the fire, “Or at least pretend to be busy.”

“I am busy,” the Netherin grinned, smiling brighter than a thousand stars, “Busy watching you.”

The masked man snorted in response, throwing a pebble, only for the other to catch it one-handed.

“Sapnap should sing to us.” George mumbled, tugging at the said man’s ear, “You never sing to us.”

“What do you mean? You spent half your time telling me to stop singing-”

Sapnap never did stop, whether they were trekking up a treacherous mountain or in the busy markets, he always had a tune on his tongue. He twisted words, rewriting them in pitch and tone out of habit, sometimes humming, sometimes whistling. Wringing choruses out of the ordinary, playing hymns songbirds never had time to chant, the Netherin played with words like an artist with their paints, a craftsman with their ore, a swordsman with their blade.

“To yourself. You always hum to yourself,” the Familiar leaned closer to the Netherin, eyes fluttering sleepily, “You sound like a frog by the way.”

“Why would you ask me to sing then?” 

“You’re an extremely pretty frog,” Dream said, cocking his head with a lazy smile under his mask.

“Very pretty.” He heard George agree and he was pretty sure Sapnap was flustered.

“Sing froggie, sing,” the masked man chanted, adding fuel to the fire.

“No.” 

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Tell me a story then,” George tried to compromise.

“I-I can’t think of anything right now.”

“Make one up then.”

“Later.”

The Familiar slumped, bottom lip sticking out, and he pouted. He shuffled as far away as he could from the other, taking Dream’s hood with him and pettily stuck his tongue out when Sapnap tried to grab it back. 

“Hey, you can’t hog that- Dream said we had to share.”

“No,” George teased playfully, making a heart with his hands and his tail waving around without a care.

“You do know I eventually want my jacket back?”

“Shush,” Both the Familiar and Netherin silenced him in unison and then continued their staring contest.

“George, you have to share.”

“I’m not asking for much.”

“I don’t like you anymore,” Sapnap hissed but any pretence of anger deflated the moment quiet giggles escaped the other man.

~

_One of his first memories which he still remembered was a story. He was young, maybe only old enough to crawl out his crib, maybe only old enough to cry for his mother._

_“One day,” He had tried to forget his family’s real voices, one note in their old melodies and he could hear them screaming for mercy. He gave the bored whispers in his head new names, the whispers that found joy in pulling him apart until he was nothing but a pile of flesh and bone, that found joy in following him around like his sins._

_This voice, resembling nothing like his mother who was honey and sunflowers, retold him the story sometimes. It started the same, ended the same and Dream felt like a child._

_“One day,” the voice is poison and rotten flesh, “One day, you’ll meet the sun. They’ll teach you that everything in the world needs each other, that someone needs you. They’ll show everything beautiful, the reddest of roses, the greenest of grass, the bluest of water. They’ll teach you how to always keep your promises, how to always rise when every night you fall, how to light up the sky when you’re alone.”_

_Then a voice that sounded like him but a few years younger, unscarred and innocent, will ask, “And the moon?”_

_“The moon? Oh sweetie, they’ll take your hand and pull you into the darkest night where there is no light but the tricks of green stars-”_

_“Stars aren’t green mommy.”_

_“Jealous. Jealous stars. The moon will take you to the bottom of the ocean where you can’t see anything, nothing but pitch black. Then they’ll tell you to wait quietly, wait patiently. When you tell them that you're scared of the dark, they’ll hold your hand a little tighter and tell you to wait just a little longer. And then you’ll see a million lights, all shining brighter and brighter. The moon will teach you that everything shines brighter the darker it is.”_

_“The sun and the moon, it’s important to thank them. The moon reminds the tides and waves to tuck you to sleep like blankets. The sun pulls us closer to make sure we don’t get lost, not too near that we burn, not too far that we freeze. The moon lets us see at night, the sun shakes up the day.”_

_“Why do they help us?”_

_“Because we’re their earth and that will never change.”_

~

It was bound to happen, with a relationship as prickly as Sapnap’s and George where they spent all their time bickering like cats and dogs. There was bound to be a time where one of them took it too far, striking a chord that should have been left unsung. He had just hoped he would have been there to put back together what was left.

“George is missing,” Sapnap rambled frantically when he entered their room, “I said something bad, like really bad- I take it back. I didn’t mean it, I promise. Dream just bring him back.”

It hurt to see the other man, usually so fluent with his words, degraded to a bumbling mess. He rested his hand on the other’s head, listening intently for the Netherin’s heartbeat to calm down from its erratic pace. He led the other man to the bed and let go to leave when he felt something tug at his sweater.

“Just bring him back,” the shorter man said breathlessly, his other hand covering his eyes.

~

He didn’t think George had left for good, most of his things were still in the inn and his trail was still fresh. He tracked the other down, weaving swiftly through the crowd of villagers and stopped at the orchard far left in the town. He noticed a familiar hood sitting in one of the trees, walking towards him and knocked on the trunk.

“Don’t look at me.” 

“Okay,” He sat on the floor, resting against the tree with his back to George who started shredding leaves and watched them fall. He didn’t know how long they sat in silence but he didn’t care. He’d wait for eternities until the other was ready. 

“I’m not mad at him.” George finally spoke up and Dream hummed to let the other know he was listening.

“He found out that I couldn’t read-it’s not my fault. Familiars aren’t taught,” George mumbled and the masked man could imagine the other playing with his tail, “I’m just so tired of being reminded of being-”

 _Lesser_ , the word fell silently between them.

“My stupid eyes-” George laughed shakily, “I can’t see colour properly and I can’t read. Do you know how many times people just look over me because they don’t think of me as human?”

He wondered how the Familiar fought with decades worth of oppression, it had become almost instinct for many to consider the other’s race as inferior. A burden he had to push back against because if he didn’t his flame would snuff out. The other man stood up when so many others kicked him down, spit on him and left bruises that would never heal.

Maybe Dream was wrong when he thought the moon didn’t care about the stars trying to hide its light. Maybe the moon did fight back, to rise above the childish jealousy which comforted the stars, to shine so brightly in its own glory that even the sun wished to stay awake and watch, to captivate the earth to the point it stopped spinning.

“I don’t need pity,” George mumbled, “I-I just needed a break.”

They sat there for a bit longer, until blue skies became pink and yellow, until the town started to quiet, until stars started to come out their hiding places. He watched them, each little light, and then his eyes fell on the moon.

“Sapnap’s probably worried sick,” He mentioned quietly as if he were on ice and the masked man heard the branches above him rustle, “Do you want to head back?”

There’s a thump beside him which he presumed was George leaping off the tree and a hand is thrusted in front of him. Green eyes met brown and he smiled under the mask.

“Let’s go.”

Selfish in the most selfless way possible, a soldier loyal to its own self, Dream thought the moon was beautiful.

~

“Read this to me.”

They were in a marketplace, looking around to pass away the time when George picked up a book and pushed it into Sapnap’s face.

“How to Satisfy your Villager?” Dream bent down to read out loud, “You want him to read you erotica?”

The Familiar’s face flushed bright red as he brought up his hood to hide his face, quickly throwing the book to the side.

“Is that really what it says?” he asked meekly, “I swear to Guardians I just picked up a random book-”

“No need to be ashamed, Georgie.” Sapnap grinned, eyes filled with mirth, “There comes a time in every man’s life where they have desires-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” He hissed, face going adorably redder.

“I’m a bit jealous you didn’t ask me,” Dream frowned, trying very hard not to laugh when Sapnap erupted into a fit of giggles.

“The two of you can go die.” he scowled as he turned to storm off.

(They both returned to their inn room a few hours later, greeted by a still seething Familiar with their inventories a little heavier from books they didn’t have before.)

~

He didn’t know exactly when it started, the Netherin reading to George every night until he fell asleep but it became almost tradition after a while.

“Under the deathly order of silence, the twin dragons fled, to a land with no promise, to a land of no home, to a land where the sky cried every night,” Sapnap turned the page, “They trusted no one, for there were more liars in the world with lovely faces than there were people who would sing the truth. They ignored the warnings of the star merchant and ran till the blue sea was stained with terrible hues of red, a telltale of their wounds-”

“Remind me what red feels like again,” George mumbled, sleep washing over him like a wave and he curled up next to Dream.

“Hurt, anger, passion.” Sapnap replied as Dream scratched the Familiar’s ears softly, “Warm.”

The smaller man hummed for the other to continue.

“One night, Time came to them in their dreams, in the form of a thousand cranes…”

~

“Guardians, he even sleeps with it on.”

He was in fact, not asleep, but had led the other two on since they had both insisted being on watch. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him but everything was too loud, too bright to even think about sleeping. The small campfire seemed to roar to life, wind teaching the leaves to whistle and he swore he could hear the stars laugh. There was also the dread that sunk in him like an anchor for the monsters that returned in his dreams time and time again. With his eyes closed shut, he was a vulnerable prey to his nightmares, which clawed at him and tried to drag him down to the depths of his mind. He couldn’t sleep and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to. So, he opted to listen to the other two bicker all night long.

“Do you think he even has a face?” George muttered.

“What type of stupid question is that? Of course, he does.” The Netherin snapped, throwing something into the flame.

“I’m just saying, it’s hard to imagine him with one.”

“If he didn’t, he’d still look better than you.”

Dream smiled when the Familiar scoffed. 

“You think he’d show us?”

_No._

“Probably not. Dude’s a scaredy-cat.” He heard Sapnap yelp, probably because George had thrown something at him, “Not cool. This is why Dream is my favourite.”

“Scaredy-cat? What are you trying to say?” The other grumbled and Dream could imagine his tail waving around angrily and his ears twitching with irritation.

“Didn’t mean it like that. My favourite kitty is the bravest person I know.” 

“It’s almost like you want to have your fingers chopped off.” The masked man was pretty sure the Familiar’s cheeks were pink. Words fell silent between the duo and Dream thought about how accurate Sapnap was. Dream was a coward, hiding behind the mask so he wouldn’t have to face the ruthlessness of reality. The mask was fake life built on deceit and two-faced deals for a runaway trying to escape the inevitable rain of death. But some nights like the ones when he was alone and fading away in his own pool of blood, Dream felt like the mask was the only thing he had left to live for, the only way he could stay in this world. 

“Does...does Dream ever scare you?” 

“Of course he does, remember when we got that enderpearl last week?” Sapnap began, “I watched him decapitate a baby zombie and stuff the head into its mother.”

“I don’t mean it like that, you idiot,” George mumbles, “It’s just- sometimes he feels so angry, I get worried he might do something suboptimal.”

“That’s a big word for you, Georgie.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m scared he’ll go boom boom on us?”

They didn’t say his name as if uttering it would wake him up. He felt hands playing with his hair, recognising them to belong to the Netherin.

“I think he’s looking for something,” he heard Sapnap start softly, “Something he’s tired of not having, something he would destroy the whole world for.”

“That sounds stupid coming out of your mouth,” George quipped and before the other could bite back, he mumbled, “But I wonder...”

“What? Wonder what?”

“What’s he going to do when he can’t find it?”

~

_It’s wisdom, not to trust a man wearing a mask. It is experience who will tell you that it’ll end in disaster._

_Many believe they are not to be trusted for their true faces are hidden, meaning their hearts are wrapped in silks made only from threads of lies, meaning their minds are the unthinkable, the unknown. They are right, of course, common sense will deduct that much easily._

_Experience reminds you that every lie is a voice which doesn’t exist, a story that was never published. Those who wear masks bundle these lies, the shards which do not belong to the same glass, and suffocate themselves with all the wrong pieces of a puzzle. Imagine a house of cards, every card a different size, a different paper. Imagine that house of cards collapsing, remember that instability, that urge to fall apart._

_It is not the deceitful schemes of a mask, a hidden face, which you should fear, it’s the raging storm that will rip everything apart, even itself when the mask falls._

_Experience will tell you, to beware the man who loses his mask._

~

“Two skeletons, 4’o clock!”

Sapnap nodded, charging his new flamethrower and aimed. Timed with the other’s fire, Dream shot two arrows which ripped through the flames, catching fire and then started burning the skeleton. He reloaded his bow, quickly turning to where George was vigil for a provoked Endermen, shield raised with one hand and netherite dagger in the other. 

_1 more ender pearl,_ he told himself as he slashed off the arms of an incoming zombie, they were so close.

They were stuck in a large cavern which connected to the stronghold, limiting the masked man’s agility but it would have to do. Drowns raised from the lake in the centre of the cave, like the dead from the underworld, pulling at their ankles whenever they skirt too close to the water.

_Just one more._

They had already found the portal room, George sniffing it out in an instant but it had been completely empty of the Eyes of Ender. 

_Just one more._

In the corner of his eye, he saw George slash the endermen and a green orb fell from its corpse.

_One more and the End city would be theirs-_

“DREAM!” He heard the Familiar’s high pitched scream.

_Sapnap-_

He had jumped without thinking, thrusting himself forward to push the Netherin out of the way of a trident thrown by one of the Drowns. 

_Badum._

He let out a blood-curdling howl, the trident striking him like an earthquake, pain spreading around him like tremors. He fell to the ground, hands clutching the wound.

_Badum._

His head pounded and it became hard to breathe but in the midst of the chaos, he heard the other man fall into the water like a rock.

No.

_Badum._

No, no, no, no, no, no.

“B-blood. Withers, there’s so much- I can’t stop it,” he felt soft hands on his stomach, shaking harder than Dream, “No- don’t sleep. _Dream._ Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

 _George,_ he thought hazily, opening his eyes to soothe the other. The shaking didn’t stop and the other’s face was as pale as ice and he brought up his bloodied hand to hold the other cheek.

“Shh,” he whispered, wincing when his body screamed back at him, “I’ve had worse. Half a heart remember?”

“Dream-”

“S-sapnap’s in the lake. Save him-” he cursed when he moved too fast, “Netherins-can't swim.”

“W-what? N-no.” George turned, “W-where? Sapnap-”

“G-go, I’ll be here when you’re back.”

The Familiar looked at him one more time and Dream wanted to curse at him for wasting time but he didn’t think his burning lungs could handle a whisper. The other man stood up, racing to the lake and only hesitating when he had to dive into the water.

_Cats in water were like children in the dark._

And when Dream thought he’d give in to the fear, the Familiar jumped.

~

_Badum._

His eyes opened and everything felt so _wrong_.

“Thank guardians- I thought you would never wake up,” 

Warm hands touched Dream’s cheeks and he could feel them against his skin, soft fingers holding onto him tightly as if he’d disappear. With his mind in a haze and the pain in his chest screaming too loudly, the hands feel like liars, like sirens who sang him a lullaby of home, only to burn peace into ashes. Something in him told him to trust them, believe the relieved voice he couldn’t recognise but he felt like a mess, like an unscrambled puzzle and it hurt. Then he realised.

“Where is it- I swear to withers, where is it?” He grasped tightly on the hands, jerking them off his face and ignoring the other person flinch.

“W-where’s what?” He heard the stranger tremble, stepping back, “D-Dream, calm down-”

Dream? That was his name, something- a voice whispered helpfully, but it felt wrong. There was something missing, something important but he couldn’t remember it. 

“Where is it?” He hissed even though he didn’t know what he was looking for. He didn’t understand why warm hands started to shake; it wasn’t cold. 

“S-stop it-”

Stop? How was he supposed to stop? He wanted to laugh. Everything was bursting out, like an overflowing teacup, like a breaking dam against the ocean’s rage. There was no switch to turn off, there was no leash to pull back. 

_At night he’s a madman who hears voices where he shouldn’t, nightmares which aren’t his and dreams he wished could have._

“D-dream, stop your hurting me-”

_Every step he takes._

“Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?” He screamed, a broken record.

_“Mommy says you’re a special boy.” His sister said, swinging her legs mindlessly, “She says you’re going to do the impossible.”_

It was all coming out and he couldn’t stop it. Like sand falling through his fingers when he tried to pick it up again.

_“They said that the people in the End City knew how to fly.”_

Did they?

_“Promise you’ll take me with you. Promise you’ll show me how.”_

Take you where? Promise you what?

_He hears his brother choking and struggling to breathe._

“Dream, please just stop- I’m trying to help.”

_He hears his mother telling him to run._

From what? Run from what?

The warm hands were trying to rip themselves from his grip, violently pushing him back now but he held on.

_Badum._

A glass figurine, already shattered into smithereens, trying to keep itself together. He was missing something, he needed something, he didn’t know what-

_Experience will tell you, to beware the man who loses his mask._

“My m-mask. W-where is it?” He gasped for breath like it was his final breath before he drowned in the ocean of his own voices.

_Badum._

“It’s not here- I’m sorry, I’ll go back and get it- just calm down-”

Dream refused to let go of the warm hands, falling to his knees pathetically with his vision blurred with tears.

_Badum._

“I need it-now. Give it now-please.”

_Badum._

He felt another warm body fall slowly next to him, sinking onto the cold floor. 

“I-I need you to listen. Can you do that Dream?” he heard and whined in response. His head was pushed against something firm but soft and he didn’t understand-

_Bum badum._

_Bum badum._

_Bum badum._

The lullaby sang and he felt himself stop shaking.

_Bum badum._

_Bum badum._

_Bum badum._

Time slowed down, the clock of his own heart falling silent, and he found silence had taken over his thoughts.

_Bum badum._

A part of him still didn’t know, still needed to know. The confusion of not recognising anything made him nauseous but-

He remembered this song at least, the heartbeat. It belonged to George and for a moment-

That was enough.

~

The next time he was greeted by light, he felt a familiar metal on his face and relief filled him.

He got up slowly, throat aching and dry, and looked around the room. Beside him, he saw Sapnap, skin horrifyingly pale and chest barely rising to the point he looked like a corpse. 

“He’s been asleep for two weeks.”

 _George,_ he registered as he turned swiftly. He winced at his sudden movement but looked on to see the Familiar in the corner, furthest away from the masked man. The other watched him cautiously, tail stiff in fear, like he was a prey trapped in the same room of its predator. Dream paid more attention to the dark bags under the other’s eyes and the hands which the Familiar tried to hide, more particularly the purple bruises around his wrist.

“Withers, did I do that-”

George flinched, shuffling backwards like he was trying to blend with the walls when Dream tried to come closer.

“Don’t.”

“George-”

“I said don’t.”

So he didn’t.

~

_Sometimes all you can do is lie in bed, and hope to fall asleep before you fall apart._

~

Out of the three of them, George was the hardest to understand. He had a leash on his emotions, a chain on his words and a bind on his thoughts. The Familiar controlled what went in and what went out and the only time he had seen the other be free with himself was under the intoxication of insomnia. Dream knew the other struggled when they first started travelling together, he winced every time an arm slung over his shoulder, frowned when Sapnap was a little too loud and got flustered with the slightest praise.

Ever since he first woke up, Dream thought the other was angry. He thought the other held a grudge against the bruises and bitter for the masked man barely doing anything. But as he watched more carefully, he realised George flinched when they were in the same room, realised that the familiar never met his gaze anymore and realised he was quick to make himself seem small on the rare occasion they were in the same room.

George was scared of him and somehow that was worse.

~

It had been years since he had trouble breathing.

He ran on half a clock, half the cogs and gears, half the chimes and ticks. He had no other choice but to learn how, how to ignore the gears that grated against him, how to live when every second hour was now a myth. With half his heart in the impenetrable fortress of Death, he suffered and moved on since mourning over the lost was a waste of time.

But here he was, struggling to fill his lungs with air for the fifth time that morning. One slip up and it all came crashing down, the tight ship that he had been running had started to sink. His chest rose more erratically, going off course and the pounding in his head grew louder. He fed on nothing he needed and choked on everything he didn’t and if the glances from the Familiar meant anything, it would be to ask why.

He felt as if he were drowning, each desperate breath, an attempt to keep living, not enough for him to reign under the sea. Just enough breath to stay afloat in the rocky waves but not enough to call for help. But he knew eventually his limbs would tire and exhaustion would drag him down, slowly deeper into the ocean and only allowed to come back up once his heart had stopped beating.

“Dream, are you- do you need water?” Worry laced George’s voice as the masked man was sent into another coughing fit. 

“I-it hurts,” He managed, everything closing in on his heart until there was no room left to move, “Everything just hurts.”

He noticed in his haze, the other pursed his lips, not sure how to help without both of them scarring each other. One not being able to touch each without the fear of getting hurt and the other shattering at the lightest of contact. 

“Tell me where,” George asked quietly and when the masked man’s hand clutched his chest tightly, he frowned, “Its beat has been all wrong for the last few days.”

He had been paying attention and Dream didn’t know if he should have been happy or what.

“It’s always wrong. Sometimes it’s just more wrong,” he murmured, head now light-headed. His heart felt like broken ribs, no one could see them but it hurt every time he breathed, pain screaming at him to stop and silence himself.

“Don’t say that,” George pushed a glass of water towards him, “We’ll find a way to fix it-”

“You can’t.”

“W-what?” The Familiar’s ears twitch in confusion.

“F-fix it,” Dream heaved and he wondered what they were talking about, literal or figurative, his half heart or his broken one.

“Anyone can fix anything as long as they have all the pieces.”

“But you don’t.” He sipped from the cup, “Half of it is gone now.”

“Then we’ll find it,” George mumbled, “Sap is good at finding things. I’m good at putting them back together.”

The masked man looked up and for the first time in weeks, George met his eyes with the same fiery gaze as when they first met, this time with a silent promise Dream was scared he wouldn’t be able to keep.

“It’s gone.” He insisted. His heart was like glass, sometimes it was better to leave it broken than trying to hurt yourself putting it back together. He had already hurt George once; he wouldn’t do it again.

“Someone has to get hurt,” George’s voice pulled him back to reality and Dream wondered if he had spoken out loud.

“Yes, me. Not you. Not him.”

“Don’t say that.”

Dream felt his patience slipping from his grip, anger boiling in him and he tried to blow it cool. Why didn’t the other understand? This was how it was supposed to be, this was how it was going to be. 

“Leave it.” he scowled, hands starting to shake, “You don’t even care. You shouldn’t even care-”

“Dream-”

“You can’t even look at me anymore. You flinch when we’re in the same room-”

“Guardians can you shut up?” hissed the Familiar, knuckles white and tail rigged, “Stop running your mouth like you know.”

“Then tell me please, entertain me. I have all day, nethers I had all week but you kept running away,” His voice was rising dangerously but the other didn’t back down, “Do you need an invitation? What do you want?”

“What I want?”

His voice was dangerously low, trembling slightly at the end and Dream was sure he pushed him too far. George took a shaky step forward, hands clasping onto the masked man’s tunic desperately as if he’d fade away, as if he was going to leave and dragged him closer.

“What I want? You’re asking me this now?” He was scared that he had spoken too soon, too rashly, “N-no, you don’t get to ask me that.”

“What can I do then?”

“Dream…” The shorter man’s voice trailed off and Dream looked down to divert his gaze. The Familiar, unbothered by how his own arms shook and how his own knees nearly caved in, slowly raised his hands onto the other’s mask. He felt fingers curl around the edges of the smooth metal, nails gently digging into his cheeks. He wondered if George would take it off, he wondered what he would do if the other did. Would he? Would he tear to pieces the one thing that kept to him bound together? For what? To witness a storm rip itself apart? To laugh at the earth as it drowned in a darkness that had been waiting predatorily for so long? 

“What I want?”

George’s eyes were dazed, slightly glassy, as he shook his head. Dream watched him carefully, taking in the dark eyebags, the pale skin and the hunched shoulders. He felt his own anger sinking with every tick of the clock, not bothering to try to stay afloat because there would be no point.

“Dream, I want to forget,” He murmured and his fingers danced distractedly on the metal that hid his face, “There’s so much I want to forget, I don’t think there’s enough time in the world.”

The masked man was scared to ask. Forget him? Sapnap? Every night they had slept together under the stars? Every blue sky they had danced under? Were the last few months a complete waste of time for the other? Something the Familiar wished he could get back?

“Dream, what would you do if the two people that you lov-” George lost the steadiness in his voice, acting as if it were impossible to say such a word, “The two people that you cared for so much that it hurt, died.”

“What would you do if you had to sit there, like a helpless idiot and just watch them fade away slowly.” George was dangerously close, “You were too slow. You were too weak. And it was all your fault that you were going to lose them.”

“George-”

A finger silenced him and the Familiar hid his face in Dream’s chest but he still saw the tears.

“You were both so c-cold.” George grasped onto his hand tightly, “And your hearts-they w-were so quiet, I could barely hear 'em. And the b-blood, there was so much of it. It got everywhere and it wouldn’t stop no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t wash it off Dream, the b-blood, it’s still on my hands no matter how long I washed them. I-I want it off, I want the blood off-please Dream get rid of it.”

The taller man wrapped his arms around the other, careful not to scare him. He felt the Familiar shake uncontrollably and his own tunic grow wet but it didn’t matter.

“I want to forget-those few weeks where I couldn’t hear your heart, those few weeks when the two of you might as well as have been dead-guardians, I-” George stared directly at Dream, “I was scared I would lose you two and I almost did. When you woke up- Dream, I didn’t know who you were.”

“I don’t know anymore,” Dream thought he was crying, “I’m sorry, I don’t know anymore-”

“S’okay,” George hushed him, “We’ll work it out, all three of us.”

“You can’t fix me.”

George frowned, exhausted and resigned, and Dream wished he hadn’t said anything. 

“Okay.” He looked up in surprise, “You’re not something that needs to be fixed. Dream, I don’t need you to be perfect, no one needs you to be perfect. I-the only thing I’m asking for is-”

“Is what?”

“To keep this,” George pressed his hand over Dream’s own ruined heart, “To keep this alive.”

~

Sapnap had woken up.

The other two hadn’t realised at first, George cleaning meats they had hunted and Dream busy nurturing a kindle in the fireplace for frost had started to cling on the window panes. The masked man played with the flint and steel which occupied both his hands, numb fingers careful not to let go as he rubbed them against each other. The Familiar paused, ears twitching, and he gestured him to stop.

“George-”

“Do you hear that?”

There was a rattling and they shared a look. George ripped off his dirtied gloves and raced to where the noise came from and Dream followed closely behind. The room where they had Sapnap rest in, the door fighting against its frame and the shorter man immediately grasped onto the knob, trying to pry it open.

“He locked himself in,” He mumbled to himself, “Sap, I need to you to calm down. Sap, please-”

For a spilt second, the door fell silent and Dream pushed past the Familiar to grab onto the door knob but then the pounding resumed, louder and more desperate then before.

“Sapnap, stay put for a moment and let us open the door.” The shorter man spoke calmly but his own hands shook and his tail twitched, “Come on, step away from the door. We- Dream and George, we’ll be there, okay?”

On the other side of the door, he could make out nails scratching away at the wooden door and breathing too fast. He’d pass out at this rate and the masked man wasn’t sure if the other would wake up again. Dream knocked on the tarnished acacia, counting three seconds for the pauses between every tap of his knuckles. He gestured George to keep talking and listened carefully for Sapnap’s heartbeat as it slowly slowed down to the knocking of the door.

“Sap, just take a step back. Give me three taps if you think you can do that.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The Familiar nodded at the masked man who took a deep breath before slamming his shoulder against the wood, biting his lower lip for the impact. His opposite hand immediately rubbed where it began to throb slightly but he and the other rushed in as the door swung open. His eyes fell on Sapnap, ghostly pale and death-ridden, stumbled forward and into George’s arms, shaking against him even though his room was warm.

“You’re okay, you’re fine.” George whispered in his ears, rubbing circles in the younger man’s back, “Shh, we’ve got you.”

Dream pressed his fingers on the other’s forehead, warm digits against ice-cold skin that dragged down what should be the loveliest of faces. Sapnap dug his nails into George waists, refusing to let go of the familiar and tears stained hunger-pained cheeks. The Netherin’s lips, cracked and dry, moved in the shape of their names but no words were sung out loud. He cried out loud but they were only able to pity the pathetic whimpers and echoes of the broken.

He twisted and turned, bellowed and raged but Dream and George sat there by his side, unable to give him what he wanted, what he need. The masked man held back violent hands, trying to keep the other in control as he tried to jerk away and break free from the taller’s grasp. The familiar was in front of them, clearing damp, dark hair from frenzied eyes, and stared into them pleadingly, desperate to bring back the man that had slept with the dead for weeks. No one spoke, one who could barely let out a whimper, two who were scared to send the other over the edge.

The clock ticked and eventually, the Netherin sank to his knees, too exhausted to fight anymore. His shoulder still shook uncontrollably and his head was low. When Dream reluctantly let go of his arms, the limbs fell beside the other. He buried his face in the Familiar’s shoulder, curling as small as he could, hiding away from the other as if he were ashamed.

Sapnap had woken up and he couldn’t say a word.

~

He was quiet.

For obvious reasons but there was an eerie silence that surrounded the Netherin. Words cut to a hoarse echo, no soft hums of songs that lived in his head, no laughter that lit the sky blue. Like a candle blown out by a child, like a raging forest fire drowning in a sea of rain, Sapnap faded into the dark corners he lurked in and hid under the dark smoke of his own hurt. Sometimes, Dream swore he heard the other cry when the day fell and the moon was busy catering every other light in the darkened realm but then the winds would blow and he was greeted by silence.

It was bad in the first week, locked doors and plates left full. When he was with them, he’d move his lips, only for a shadow to come out. He’d fall because his limbs were too weak to carry him and the other two were too slow to catch him. It was hard to look at the younger, it hurt to look at him and not be able to do anything about it. But only time could give Sapnap his voice back and even if they waited eternities, there was no certainty that time would be kind enough to give it back.

The masked man knocked on the door, opening it when he had no response, and walked in with a bowl of mushroom soup. The Netherin had built a fort around himself, walls of leather and paper as each brick told its own story. He didn’t look at Dream, immersed in words he could not say out loud and the other wonders why.

“What are you doing?”

Smaller hands dismissed him, turning the page with the other. Sapnap grabbed a quill, dipping it in the squid’s ink George had stolen for him, and scrawled furiously in what seemed like a notebook. Looking over his shoulder, Dream tried to read the scribbles but the other swiftly flipped to a blank page, earning him an elbow in the knee.

“Come on, Sapnap.” He whined and the other shook his head, writing something new and offering it to him.

_It’s not ready._

“Not ready? What is it?”

Sapnap hesitated, the tip of the quill hovering over the parchment as he bit his lip. He something again, this time slower but for a single word.

_Story._

“Oh, can I have a read? When it’s done that is.”

_No._

“No?”

_I’ll read it to you. And George._

“But-”

Then he was cut off by stubborn eyes, brighter than he’d seen them in a while and he had to smile. He watched the other, burning and alive, glow dim like a kindle at the first second. He’d burn brighter, Dream knew he would, no matter how many times the ocean tried to drown him, how many times the rain tried to pour furiously on him. That’s what the sun did, no matter how dark the clouds, it fought the overwhelming darkness and it won. Despite the weak smile too big on the other, the masked man thought it had been a while since he was reminded how beautiful the Netherin was.

The thing about fires, it didn’t matter how many times one tried to snuff it out. If there was a part of it still there, still standing, you could always strike another flame, another light.

~

_The poet owned a voice lovelier than a thousand songbirds, more beautiful than the symphony of the sea. The king wondered how he could do it so easily, hook the hearts of his kingdom like naive fish, and bless every member of his audience with the chance to live another life. He twisted and turned words as if he were the puppeteer of a song, the conductor of a puppet. The people would listen, believe the most extreme of lies and mock the hardest of truths, cry when they should laugh, laugh when they should cry._

_The king is defenceless against his poet no matter how big the riches he bathes in, not matter how tall his borders, no matter how brave his army._

_With a pen cut deeper than a thousand swords, the poet stands as the sun sets behind him and sings._

~

They started with the small things, easing the aches of his throat, reteaching his tongue how to hum, how to laugh, how to cry. Painful silence became hoarse echoes and then soft hums that even the winds couldn’t understand.

“He walks with a love the skies want,” Dream sang, off-key and all three of them knew it sounded terrible, “Will he? Will she? When all they ever seem to do is waste time and breathe?”

“Those are not the lyrics, you idiot,” George covered his ears and the masked man rolled his eyes, “Please never open your mouth again, I’d rather die.”

“Not even to kiss you?”

“I am dying. Stop making me die.”

“Murder? No, I like that.”

Sapnap laughed in short breaths but it trailed off in a series of coughs. He hummed as he pulled on the Familiar’s tail, dragging the other into his arms and melting against him.

“Room for me?” Dream pouted and George kept his arms crossed while the Netherin had them wide open.

“ _H-here_.”

It was a single word, four letters and one syllable but it was a one more than yesterday and could be a word less than tomorrow.

~

“You should get some sleep.” Dream murmured as George fumbled with the papers in his hands and his eyes fluttered shut. The Familiar shook his head, tail curling, and he tried to hide his dark bags with his arms. He yawned and rested his head on the table, purring softly when the Netherin played with his ears, but it was clear he was fighting sleep.

“Idiot, don’t rub your eyes, it’s not good for you.” He chided and the shorter boy stuck out his tongue.

“Can’t sleep.”

“H-help?” Sapnap mumbled as he drew circles on the other man’s neck and watched the him melt against him. The masked man stood up to grab the messily folded quilts that rested on the armchair, draping them over the Familiar who huffed in response. Exhausted limbs lazily pulled Dream into the seat beside them and he rolled his eyes.

“What Sap said. If you need something-”

“Tell me a bedtime story,” George grinned, “Go on, I’m waiting.”

“You’re such a child,” He smiled under his mask, “Do you want me to get one of the books?”

The shorter man whined when he suddenly pulled away to try to remember where the novels had been placed last. The windows were dark and the sun had fallen asleep and the only light in the room where the kind flames of the candles. The bookshelf maybe, or on the kitchen counter, he thought as he took a step away. A hand stopped him, warmer than his own skin and he turned to give Sapnap a questioning look.

“Me.”

“You? S’all good Sap, I’ll get them for our sleepy kitty.” George kicked his shin and he let out a small yelp, “What was that for-”

The Netherin shook his head, gesturing for Dream to sit back down with one hand and pointing at himself with the other, and the other complied.

“My s-story,” The man coughed, “Listen.”

“What do you mean?” George sat up straight, confusion painting his features. The darker haired man frowned, tilting his head to the side like he were pondering.

“S-sing, froggie, sing.” Sapnap pointed at the masked man and then flicked the Familiar’s forehead, “Impatient Georgie.”

_“Sing froggie, sing,” the masked man chanted, adding fuel to the fire._

_“No.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“No.”_

_“Tell me a story then,” George tried to compromise._

_“I-I can’t think of anything right now.”_

_“Make one up then.”_

_“Later.”_

Later.

“Are you sure? Your voice isn’t healed yet,” The Familiar said quietly, “You don’t have to. It would be better if you didn’t strain your voice.”

Sapnap nodded, a confident smile gracing his lips. Dream could watch him smile for guardians knows how long. He had seen the other in all his burns and bruises and rise from his own pitiful ashes just as mesmerizing and alive as ever. Gorgeous, beautiful and stunning- Dream wasn’t sure there were enough words to describe how lovely the other was. He remembered when he was scared of this, burning alone in something he didn’t understand, drowning in a void he was forever falling in.

But as George leaned into him, sweet and calm, and as Sapnap spun his words, bright and warm, he knew he wouldn’t burn alone.

And that was enough.

~

_Let me tell you a story that Time forgot._

_Let me remind you again how the sun loves the moon so much that he dies each night so she can breathe._

_Let me whisper in your ears, the secret oaths which the sun swore upon to never let go of his earth._

_Their love had no place in Fate’s little game so they painted the skies._

_Three hearts, each drowning in something too big for our world._

_Three hearts that the stars can’t even tear apart._

~

The eye of ender lay heavily in the palm of his hand, the vigilant pupil darting around the orb to focus on the portal frame like a compass needle pointing north. Lava popped and crackled, the only source of light in the room, and made the cool stone bricks warm to touch. Cobwebs hid the ceiling of the room and moss crawled into the cracks and dents of the walls. Sapnap ran his hands along the portal frame, eleven eyes of ender filled in and only one slot is empty, and he looked at Dream.

“Stupid silverfish,” George mumbled, watching the mob squirm and squeal under the heel of his foot, “It’s like hiss hiss stronghold here.”

“Hiss, hiss?”

“I don’t know what noise silverfish make.”

They had spent weeks preparing, going as far to equip themselves with diamond armour and traded for potions. The masked man felt his fingers twitch around the hilt of his axe, glowing in an enchantment they had spent hours trying to barter off a librarian. 

“G-gimme a second, this feels a bit weird,” Sapnap leaned against the taller man and sighed, “My knees might give in- make sure you catch me if I fall.”

“Fall? In love?” Dream grinned from under his mask, “I dunno, might just let you keep falling.”

The other let out a laugh, trailing off awkwardly into a silence. George played with his own tail, mindlessly counting the bricks of the walls and Dream let his fingers groom the feathered ends of his arrows. They were wasting time, no clock in the room to hurry them up, to remind them how much time escaped them. They should go, they were ready, he knew they were but there was something surreal about the whole situation.

“Is this really happening?” George mumbled from the other side of the portal.

“I think so,” The masked man’s hand hovered over the empty frames, the eye of ender in his hand begging him to place it where it belonged, “Count me in?”

The other two nodded. The Netherin coughed, trying to clear his throat before he spoke, and he rewrapped the scarf around his neck.

“Three.”

He nudged the Familiar, making the other scowl.

“Two.”

Dream took a deep breath- this was what everything was for after all. This was what everything was leading up to, this was what the last few months where spent on. They could die, as easy as that, snap of the fingers. They could die and it could all come crumbling down. Every scar, every burn, every tear for nothing. But it could also be everything, they could have everything.

“One.

For the first time in centuries, the gates to the End were opened.

~

Everything felt different- everything was different.

They had landed on an obsidian platform, only a few blocks away from an island made completely out of a pale stone, something the masked man had never seen. It was a floating island, he realised, swimming in an ocean of nothing. There was something hypnotising about the abyss, the void: singing a song to make him take a step and fall. The melody was something reminiscent to death, something he has heard all too many times to fall for the tricks of the void.

The air seemed to drag them down, slowing their pace as they charged to the refuge of obsidian pillars and feet landing harder on the pale stone. Above them were purple skies, shades of dark magenta and indigo he had never seen before and George shivered next to him. Tall towers, reaching heights Dream could barely see the top of, but he barely, just barely could he make out bright lights glowing on each tower. Endermen were scattered all over the island except for the bedrock centrepiece, a small pillar with what seemed like an egg and where there was an egg, there was no doubt a mother.

Wings beat furiously above them. Purple eyes glared at them predatorily and gnarly claws dug into the obsidian, roaring with the might of a thousand withers. The ground rumbled lowly, almost as if it would break below his feet and eat him alive and in the corner of his eyes, he watched Sapnap almost fall. The endermen around them twitched uneasily, whizzing from one place to another, as the dragon leapt off one of the towers and dove towards them, it’s gnarly breath a slow poison.

“What do we do?” Sapnap asked as they ran, being careful not to slip into a crater.

“Shoot him-it, I mean her.” George snapped, “No way will we reach her with our swords.”

“How inclusive.”

Dream grabbed his bow and an arrow from his quiver, shouting the other to cover his back, as he took his time and aimed. Not the wings, they didn’t know how hard the scales were. The eyes where too small and the dragon twisted her head too often for him to be confident in his shot. He had to be careful with their arrows, not to waste a single one. He pointed his weapon at the stomach of the beast, usually the weakest part of most creatures and positioned it slightly higher than his target.

He let go of the bowstring and watched the arrow rip through the air, landing true as the beast let out a deafening cry. It writhed, almost colliding with one of the pillars and he could barely hear the two beside him let out a cheer.

“I’ll take left,” George mumbled while the Netherin ran the opposite direction. The dragon shook her head, steadying herself with her tail to take off once again. This time she flew higher than the pillars and circled around a pillar when a white beam connected her to the lights atop of the obsidian.

“Healing?” Dream mumbled to himself as the dragon swooped down again, no wounds in sight. Ten towers, ten lights and unfortunately, one perfectly fine dragon.

_The Pillager’s guide to Conquest and Conquer states that the capitol of the Nether was seized in the Searing Sieges and this victory could be credited to the exploitations of the Ender crystal. A mechanism which with one trigger, from the penetration of an arrow to the punch of one’s fist, can kill a hundred men in one blow. Not much research has gone into the Ender Crystal, the weapon’s manufacturing being forbidden but it is known that endermen have reacted strangely around the crystals, unable to be wounded when in its presence._

“The lights!” He bellowed, “Get rid of the lights or else we’ll be wasting arrows!”

They shot him a confused look but nodded, changing their aim to the towers. The lights were small, weak against the purple skies and dark towers and the masked man cursed when he missed his first three shots.

Behind him, George screamed and the Familiar held onto his arm tightly where it burned from the purple fireball.

“Note, do not touch mysterious purple stuff,” George hissed, leaning against a tower, “It hurts and it stinks worse than Sap.”

“Rude.” The Netherin shouted back but he was already by the injured man’s side, fretting over the burn. He nodded at the masked man, a confirmation that the Familiar would be fine and he turned back to dragon, determination controlling his limbs.

Dream aimed for the air, hoping he’d strike gold with his fourth arrow. With a deep breath, he carefully aimed for the light. His fingers twitched nervously around the bow and his heart pounded with a single mantra in his head: they would do this, they would do this, they would do this.

He let go and all he could was wait as time seemed to slow down and his heart stopped.

Then there was a ringing in his ears and an explosion of lights brighter than he had ever seen them. The dragon groaned and he grinned, quick to grab another arrow for another tower.

They would do this.

1 down. 9 to go.

_They would do this._

~

10 down. 1 dragon. No arrows.

Dream swore, wincing when he twisted his waist too hard to dodge the tail of the beast, open wounds stinging in the cold air. There was a crack in his shield, small ravines in where the iron should have been smooth and he might pass out. Sapnap was beside him, sword at hand as he tried to ward off an enderman with one of his eyes a dark purple. George charged forward, slashing the under belly of the dragon, and weaved through the claws and tails which dangerously swung around.

“One hit,” The Familiar said breathlessly, nearly collapsing into Sapnap’s arms, “One more hit, I swear on it and she’s dead.”

_One more hit?_

“We can’t go charging in- we don’t have anymore golden apples.” Sapnap growled as he tried to help the shorter man up onto his feet, “And as much as I love you two, none of us look pretty enough to last another hit.”

The dragon roared, barely standing up on the ground, and it’s wings a terrible mess of twists and scales. It couldn’t fly off; it couldn’t heal and it couldn’t even stand without falling over itself.

_One more hit._

“Dream-no what are you doing-”

He shrugged off Sapnap and ignored his limbs that screamed at him as he charged forward, through flames stained indigo, with his axe swung above his head.

_One more hit._

The end city would be theirs. Everything would be theirs. He just had to run a little bit fast, have his heart beat a little bit longer and he would have done it. They would have won.

_“They said that the people in the End City knew how to fly.”_

His blade hit the neck of the dragon and she screamed her last breath, shattering into a myriad of light, as death claimed her voice.

“DREAM! WATCH OUT-”

They’re were both stubborn, if she was going down so would he. With her final second, the beast swung its tail in outrage and sent the masked man flying into a pillar. Bones shattered, blood seeped out in amounts it shouldn’t and his heart beat slowed down.

For Dream, the world turned black.

~

_Dream and death have been dancing around each other for too long, playing an endless game of tag and stuck in a stalemate for longer than he remembers. Death twirls and whispers sweet nothings in his ears, striking a B natural when it should be a G, trying to trick him into falling over his feet. Dream never stays in the same place for long, for the other is right on his tail and if he were to stop, it would be his corpse the broken choir of songbirds would have to serenade._

_So he keeps running and running, even when his feet burn, through the thickest of forests and vastest of oceans. Even when it rips him apart and he’s stuck under the mercy of greedy scavengers, he keeps running because he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to push back. He can’t, just can’t because under the mask and ugly skin, he’s a coward._

_And that’s all he’s ever been._

_Death and Dream have been dancing around each other for too long and as he lays in familiar darkness, heart thumping and grip slipping, he thinks it might be time to give in._

~

Everything hurts but he’s not sure if he really cares.

Sapnap is cradling his head, trying to keep it elevated, and George’s hands are pressing down on a massive slash that ran across his stomach. The Familiar is shaking, eyes wide and mumbling to himself the same words as familiar, dark red stains his hand a second time. The Netherin’s own tears fall onto the Dream’s face and he realises his mask is gone. Panic makes his heart race but then- but then he decides it doesn’t matter anymore.

“Y-your mask, I’ll get it yeah?” The Familiar’s voice is high and green eyes watch glassy ones carefully before smiling weakly.

“It’s going to hard to kiss you two with the mask on,” Then he turned to Sapnap, who hides his face with a sob, “Shh, you’ll be fine.”

“N-no, you’re going to die.”

“This is nothing,” He groaned when he tried to lift his torso and he’s not sure if it helps calm the other two, “We did it.”

He looked up to the sky, a blank canvas of purple, not a single star in sight. There are floating portals, almost like lanterns and he might still be in shock. It’s just them, Dream, George and Sapnap, victorious in a world from fairy tale, standing in a world alone but together. They did it, they did it, they did it.

“Idiot,” George laughs, relief making him fall against Sapnap and he looks like he might cry.

“I-I promised, didn’t I?” Dream whispers hoarsely, “I’m not done yet.”

The Netherin’s hand is on his chest, half a heart beating erratically but fast, and the Familiar follows, lacing his own fingers with Sapnap’s atop of Dream’s chest.

He stares at the other two, his sun, his moon and he wishes-

He wishes they last forever.

(And he swears they will.)

**Author's Note:**

> 'lo again,  
> okay so I know this is day 7 but 5 and 6 are coming I promise. I just had the most of this written and had a sudden inspiration to finish this fic.  
> Fun fact: This fic was supposed to be my first fic for Dream Team but plans change. It’s heavily inspired by @4amsprite on ao3, two of her fics! They are the reason I started writing fanfic in the first time in years so if you show them some love, I’d appreciate it. If some parts are a bit weaker than the others, I'm sorry! I've never written anything this long so quality kinda degrades every now and then.  
>   
> if u want to- don't forget to user subscribe, it's free and you can always unsubscribe later <3
> 
> Reply with your own timestamps~  
> xoxo winter
> 
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